JFWilkerson

Going to sleep tonight with a heavy heart, as we all are here in Oklahoma. The tornado killed many people about twenty miles north of me. When God plays darts there’s no rhyme or reason. Although our hearts are broken, it’s a wonderful thing to see the support and love Oklahomans the to each other. Stay strong Oklahoma, we all love you and your people.

There are people all over the world, throughout human history, that have felt the need to defend their version of God. How absolutely ridiculous it is to think that the ultimate power of the universe must be defended. To me, it is plain that when people feel the need to defend God, they are defending their own narrowed view of God. It is evident that the only version of God that must be defended, is the one that humans selfishly cling to.Their God is one who must obey human rules, and human emotions, such as love, hate, salvation, and damnation.. The stars and the planets, the moon and the ocean, the plants and animals on the other hand, all exist endlessly without questioning, they simply obey the laws set forth by God, and the Universe, they need no defending. They don’t need to defend the laws they follow, they simply follow them. How naive of humanity to have to defend creation, when it is evident all around us.

Fathers singin by the riverside, and mommas in the dark
Southern winds and old pine trees, miss me when I’m gone.
New tattoos and whiskey shots, fill Sunday afternoon.
Followed maps led to old bear traps, and deep uncovered wells

Sunset, new regret, fall down, small town, living with old scripture, breaking down.
Fly home, yellow bones scattered by the pine trees, snow flakes falling down, buzzards in the sky.

Fathers singing by the tall pine trees, and mommas in the sun,
Cactus breeze, and dead oak trees, are headstones in the fog
Blood soaked knights and silver knifes, that cut deep down to bone

Prom dress, mosquito nets, underneath a shade tree, preachers in the school yard looking pissed. Kissing upon Cavenaugh, touching in an old truck, Jesus turns his head when mommas not around.

Fathers singing an old country song, while mommas feeling all alone
Hickory trees, and west coast dreams, made Oklahoma so dull.
Cold smoke winds, and trailer park friends, left us feeling old

Wolves howl, musics loud, mountain clouds, falling down, blaring out bob marley in the park.
Smokin from an apple, kissing in a chapel, Jesus feeling older every day.

I still remember the color of your eyes.
Blue green with flakes of silver and gold near the center.
I think about you all the time.
I think about all the times we spent together all around Oklahoma, or our trip to New York.
I think about how far away you are from me you are right now, not just in miles, but in spirit.
And I think I still love you in some way.
Although I have convinced myself that I love the idea of you, not you personally.
And really my dear its a bit ridiculous.
I’m really ready to move on, to move my mind out of the mountains where it is stuck, and into the windy plains where I’ve been living this past year.
And I know that you are coming here next year, and that I may see you everyday.
And that’s honestly a little scary.
Because you don’t know who I am anymore, and frankly I’m not sure if I know who your are either.

Art is my savior, more than Jesus or Muhammad ever was. When God turned a blind eye, Mozart and Debussy were my sanctuary.

When i fell down, the art of photography picked me back up.

When i see the world in grey, Warhol or Pollock show me the bright reds and blues. 

Whitman and Frost give me a place to travel when im stuck inside all night.

The one thing i care about is art.